Weekend Trip...

I posted Chapter four of Night of the Wolf to Nifty. Not sure when the link will go live. I am expecting flame mail over the cliffhanger.

 Warning yes there are sexy bits!

 Dropped off Zahir's new toy for refit. His boss does a lot of business with this company and they fit Z's "little" project in between a couple major ones. He did a sexy pre-flight captains briefing. "This is your captain speaking... This is a no smoking flight, which is good because boy is NEVER to be smoking."
 
  It is so pretty here! I didn't get to see a lot of the city but it is wicked old.

 The company that is doing the refit is amazing, an engineer's wet dream. It was odd seeing some of the work being done old school. I expected wall to wall CNC machines.

  The factory guide pointed at the big Airbus that is being refurbished for a big client can't say who, just that he is a royal. Zahir said, "One day I will buy one of those to shuttle my princess."

 Spent the day picking out interiors and new bulkhead placements. Z was insistent on a shower in the bath. When the designer saw me signing to Zahir he showed us a touch pad message system that can send messages to the cockpit, galley, lav, and seating areas. This company is so lit.

 The seats are coming out and new reclining bed like seats are going in. The sofa in the rear "lounge" can fold down into a full size bed.

 We fly back commercial tomorrow. Z says the next time he goes to Iran he will now be able to fly home on the weekends.

Ok Emri, You Win!

Good morning, I have cannon balled into the WattPad pool. I am gonna try it. I dusted off one of my older stories and am re-writing it. Teddy and the Bear. 

It is STILL only a short story... 4-5 chapters. But I think I may rewrite the ending. Though Teddy was left in a better place, he still has growing to do.

That said, "I AM A MATH GEEK!!! Not a writer."

***Update*** Okay it was a sucky story in the first place, but damn not one single vote or comment.

Maybe a different cover...

Chapter Three Posted / Zahir on the Middle Class

 Well I had my first 24 hours on my new meds. I am not quite as agitated. My nose is a little stuffier than normal and I'm not sleeping as deeply either. A couple of good scares but I woke up and I didn't claw up my honey either.  I was also able to get back to sleep.

*** UPDATE IT IS UP!***

I posted Chapter three of Night of the Wolf to Nifty.

 Warning yes there are sexy bits! 


 My buddy has asked if I'm interested in posting a couple of my old stories to Wattpad. I'm not sure, they are kind of sleazy. Not sure how much would be left after I edited the the sexy bits out.

Zahir smiled at the line, "...there is nothing in your past that you should feel any shame about. You survived long enough to be with me. You lived long enough to be mine... ...I belong by your side forever."

He knows where I got that one.😉

 The boss cancelled the reservation on the Bombardier "ONE TOO MANY DELAYS!" He has replaced it with "a more reliable manufacturer." True to his word the boss put the Gulfstream G550 up for sale.

 Somehow the boss found out that Zahir was thinking about relocating to Atlanta. He offered him a sweet deal to stay with the company in Amman. It included a very good price on the company's "old stinky flying minibus," and a promotion. I find it really odd how happy he is about purchasing the "old stinky flying minibus," his words not mine. 

 So my honey ticked another box off of his bucket list. He is now the proud owner of his own jet. His eyes lit up... Does the phrase "Kid at Christmas" have an Bedouin counterpart? I see research in my future.

 Last night he started pulling out maps showing if we landed this or that airport how far we could fly. Apparently if we land in London for refueling, most of the northern hemisphere is in our range. He says it must go to Europe for interior refitting. He wants a shower and a real bed. "Even in the sky my princess must sleep."

 Zahir once told me his family was middle class. When he first told me about the jet, I asked him what he thinks the middle class is. His answer was, "I know people who have more than me, I know people who have less than me, I am in the middle." Shake my head.





 Good morning my friends,

 Chase

Chapter two is uploaded...

My guilty pleasure...


 Chapter 2 of Night of the Wolf has been uploaded. I know some people will not like it because it is exposition, it is backstory, it is how Jedidiah became so screwed up.

 In many ways his character development is LOOSELY based on myself and my foster-brother. Our stories kind of flushed him out.

 Love it or hate it, it is my story. I've got a lot of ideas on how to proceed. I have chapter 3 mostly in the bag, need to drop in some steamy stuff. I have chapter 4 & 5 partially in the bag. I had one person say I need an editor to trim the fat from my stories. Well my stories are my stories. You get what you pay for.

 Had a few folks message me asking how I'm doing. I'm doing okay, I just had a little too much reality after Vienna. I got to see how the world could be. Now I see what my world is. I hope someday our world will be one where people are free to love the people they wish to love without recrimination. That is not my reality.

 I used to tell officer Mike I felt like I was born in the wrong decade. Here in Amman, I hate to say it, I found the decade I was supposed to be born in... it's just hard to live in it. My Palestinian sister-in-law hates me. I guess that puts me in good company because she hates her mother-in-law too.

 It's really odd here, if I had a gay lover who is French, German, Italian or English no one would raise an eyebrow. Because I have fallen in love with an Arab, if people KNEW, I would be hated for leading him astray. The irony is his family praise me for "settling" him and guiding him back to his faith.

 Even Heaven has limits.

Started A New Story... It is DARK!

Night Of The Wolf....

Teen love, love lost, and werewolves...  I was surprised how fast Nifty posted it. It posted so fast I got my first piece of fan mail, before I got the acknowledgement of its post. It is my first foray into horror. I'm liking the characters so far. I am working on four chapters at the same time is kind of weird.

 I have been I have been working on some dark issues here and Night Of The Wolf is how they were revealed. It is also why Zahir asked me to diminish my online presence. He was worried. When Shrinky Dink read the opening scene he was concerned initially. I am not a violent person but it is a brutal scene. Like I said, I am working through some issues.

 I hope my regular fans like it. I'm not sure what the lag is going to be on chapters but there are two more that are almost completed. Z is concerned I am casting him as the villain. Not an issue,  I know who I patterned the villain after.

I already did get a negative comment as well... "That's not 'shifter' canon." I NEVER SAID IT WAS. My prof in comparative religions got me interested on a side tangent. She said most culture's creator stories are similar, just like their werewolf tales. I was curious and started a side research project.

Well Poo...

 Looks like my last story bombed. No flames, but no feedback at all. Well, it was fun to write. 

 School has been taking most of my time this week. Zahir he's been so damn sweet. He has been helping me prepare for exams this week.  The proctor is scheduled to administer them Thursday. It is early but I am ready.

 My fur baby nipped my wrist while playing today. It has inspired a story... We will see if it develops.

Just Stepped Far Outside The Box

Just sent in my FIRST two maybe three part story to Nifty - Shon - Shunned & Redeemed (Part One). The story centers around a shunned Amish teen trying to figure himself out. I pictured this guy when I wrote the story about Shon.➜

It takes place a year after his shunning. He has had a chance encounter and must reengage his old life. Shon is dealing with a lot of changes.




***Update: Chapter Two was sent in as well...*** .


***Update Two: the story is up... In the transgender\teen part of the site.***

I Cheered For A Bad Guy (Golly) (repost)

 "Why did your post come down?" Zahir likes to review my post for my safety. This time he thought I put Mohsen and Stacey in jeopardy. He asked (demanded) they and Officer Mike review what I said. Officer Mike said I was the hero not him, I disagree. He lost far to much helping me.

 We found out that I did not hurt Moe & Stacey. The last of five adoptions were completed this last week. Those boys and girls are the luckiest kids in Florida to end up in their care. The two of them are leaving Florida but not without "their" babies.

***

 Just finished reading a series on Nifty that touched my heart. I was looking  to see if Emri sneaked a story on line that week (he did). 

 I found A Throw Away Kid by Erastes, I saw the story title and was interested. The author (Erastes) clearly has some experience with the world of foster care. The way he mentioned the trash bag drag speaks to that (been there done that). 

 I don't like the pederasty genre (surprise huge turn off). This author however touched my heart because I saw a lot of my DCF life in his lead character.

 As I read the story I found myself cheering for the pedophile (his lover was 13, yes pedophile). I cheered because he was the lesser of all evils in the case of these boys. I have said before victims of childhood sex trauma initially fall into two camps generally. 

1. Non-sexual - Sex is evil and I will have no part of it. (that was me)
2. Hyper-sexual - Sex is just a thing needed like air (Kyle from the story) the line between sex and love becomes blurred to the point of non-existence.

 With a tremendous amount of love, understanding, (and yes therapy) "normal" can become more than just a drier setting again in regards to sex.

 The story touched chords with me during the hospital scene too. When my (DCF certified) rapist foster dad tried to choke me out because I was making too much noise while I tried to alert the guy at the door I needed help, the system almost killed me again. 

 DCF has agreements with specific (often overworked and underfunded) hospitals. It was Officer Mike who handed the (DCF certified) foster dad rapist his ass. Then he brought me back to life the first time that day. He explained to the paramedics that if I went to the (DCF certified) hospital I would end up in the (DCF certified) morgue. He begged them to take me to the closest level one trauma center (it was NOT DCF certified). 

 As a result of his good deed, my hero lost his job as a contract investigator for the state. The worst part was when the state took his law enforcement officer certification for his continued "interference" with DCF casework (my life). 

 The author hit another homer when "Kyle" gets labeled as a sexual predator by the agency. This is not as a result of a criminal charge or conviction but as a result of him having consensual sex with a foster brother. THIS HAPPENS, I have seen it. Once the agency THINKS you might be a predator; they re-home you accordingly without trial, review, appeal, and often without evidence.

 CPS, DSS, DCFS, DCW, DCS, DCF doesn't matter what you call them, they all SUCK at protecting kids. If you belong to these organizations I am not blaming you per se, I do however blame the rule books that govern the organizations.

 I bitch about the screwy age of consent laws in my home state (Floriduh). Age of consent is 18. But then they add a murky Romeo and Juliet sliding scale that is total tomfuckery. IF you are 16 or 17 you are "KIND OF" legal too based on the exact age separation of your partner. 
 In our sister states Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi they went with a clear age of consent of 16. Why? Because MOST people can make that choice then. Those states added teeth to use on those who prey on the mentally challenged. 

 At seventeen I had already graduated HS, finished more than 1 year of college, and I was very much in love with Zahir. I wasn't sure if it was erotic love but we did know the 11 years that separated us was insurmountable. 

 Before he returned to Jordan Zahir and his boyfriend David split up but Z could not pursue me. Even if I became an emancipated minor (recognized by the courts as an adult) I would still be off limits due to the age of consent sliding scale. A scale that said I could make love to guys 14-23 but could not bed the 28 year old who truly loved me. The man who rebuilt the empty shell of a person DCF hollowed was off limits.

 For the second time in my life someone thru the rule book aside to protect me. For eleven months Mohsen and Zahir hid me from DCF's radar. Mohsen told them during site visits that I was traveling celebrating graduation, exceptional performance in college studies, and whatever lame excuse he could come up with to hide that I was in Amman. Being an on-line student had value. We had a VPN that showed I was logging on to UCF from Miami, and DCF the bureaucracy slept.

 Rule-books rigidly followed have injured and yes killed the innocent. What we need are case flexible guidebooks. Ironically many GOOD DCF caseworkers say the same thing. 

 Some day I MAY write my life story, including the names of the DCF case workers and supervisors who failed me as well as those who genuinely tried.

Housekeeping... Answering Questions III

Well hell, here we go again. I got some of the usual shitty comments in the inbox...

No, Mohsen did not "pimp me out" to his boss. 

• Yes, in a very round about way he did make the introduction. He let Stacy use my love of numbers and math to draw me out of my shell and reengage the world by keeping the ranch's books.
• Moe did NOT like or trust Zahir around me... at first. Then again, MOE did not trust anyone around the children in his care. 
• If not for an IRS audit, Zahir NEVER would have met me. Does that mean the IRS "pimped me out" to a Jordanian businessman?
• Moe lost his parents to the genocide Saddam Hussein waged on the Marsh Arabs. Family is everything to Moe, all of us kids ARE his family. He was and is Daddy to me.

 No Zahir is NOT a pedophile.

• Yes, Z entered my life at fifteen. That does not mean we were having sex. He was still with his "boy," David a twenty two year old young man straight out of the Israeli Army.
• At age seventeen Zahir was my best friend and mentor. When he was promoted to the engineering department and brought back to Amman I became depressed to the point I wasn't eating. HIS family took me in to recover.
• He did in fact wait until I was of legal age in MY home state. Florida the age of consent is 18 and Florida is quite draconian in their prosecution. 
• The reason he waited three years... One, I wasn't ready. Two,  the age of consent in Florida is 18...  He did not want Moe and Stacy to get in trouble.
  

He is SO much older, don't you see he is manipulating you?...

• Oh WOW some of you are just dead inside.
• Yup, he is eleven years older than me. 
• He has NEVER treated me as a child with the exception of when I have been sick, and on the rare occasion I have behaved like one.
• It is called a May-December Romance. The first lady is twenty-four years younger that his cheetoness. Does that make him a... Never-mind bad example.

To those complaining that I should break my stories up into chapters...

•  My creative process is an exercise in bloviation. It is one continuous thought process until completion. Zahir teases me quite often about my attention span being short...  my countrymen would call it squirrel like.  
• The irony is once I AM on task, my attention is laser like in focus, to the detriment of all else.
• I have received an incredible amount of flame mail involving the length of my last story. I'm terribly sorry  some of you believe you did not get your money's worth. Oh wait I did it without charge.
•  I do owe my fans an apology. I should have  paid more attention on final edits. There are a couple of glaring errors. I was rushing to complete and screwed up. My world of numbers is a lot easier than writing.

New Story Is Up...

I published a new story on Nifty. It is entitled The Haunted Boy (originally Denny And The Ghost)

• Death touched my life again while I was sick. I used the imagery in the story to play with the spirit world.

• I was remembering the moment when my foster father was choking me. Just before the end I swear I could see my mother standing behind him willing me to fight. I have had doctors, shrinks, and preachers tell me it was the loss of oxygen. I just don't know.

• My religion tells me this is not possible, but when it comes to me at a faith level, I am not as sure on this point. It was so real.

This story could have used a few more trips through editing process. I am learning math is easy, writing is so difficult.

Some of the first readers have complained it was too long. I guess I could have made it into a series. That is not how my creative process works. I blitz write, vomiting out a long section, then work it down into something managable.

Night nurse just got vitals so I thought I'd knock this notification out before dropping off again.

Nite, 
Chase

Part Two Of Frozen Is Up

  My heart wasn't in it but I had to finish it. I started Frozen and Chosen when I still had hope of a fairy-tale reunion with my Mom. By the time I was 90% into the re-write of "Part II" I discovered the truth.  With my inspiration gone I almost abandon the work entirely. I still feel I rushed it, but people were asking for a follow up. I couldn't leave it almost done.

Coitus Interruptus In My Sleep & Second Try At Flying Home...

 0200

 I was having the best dream ever. I was a mer-man (a mer-twink I guess) with a beautiful shimmering tail. Zahir was fishing and caught me. He and I were making love on the beach. I was grinding back against him when I had a sudden feeling we were not alone...

 I woke with a start as I saw Betey looking down at me. I sheepishly covered up under the sheets blushing. He told me he heard noises and thought I was in distress. He went on to apologize for disturbing such a pleasant dream.

 He added that he was sorry for calling Zahir instead of my Baba when I snuck out to the build site. He hoped it does not cause problems. Looks like I talk in my sleep. Damn this was embarrassing.

 He told me how his nephew has a gentle boy like me. "Your Baba told me some of your story. You were born for a good purpose. You bring honor to your new family by protecting their honor." He started to say "It was unexpected for a..." I finished his sentence with the word, "Zamel?" He asked who called me that. I swept my hand in his direction and said he called my friend David one, I was no different.
 
 He told me there was a difference between David and I. "Your friend is selfish, looking only for the next thing that will make himself happy. You are a good boy who serves others. Your heart belongs to only one." He ran his fingers through my sweaty hair and encouraged me to take a shower and put on new pajamas. The ones I was wearing were drenched with sweat.
 
 As he left my room he looked me square in the face, "The pop-star I would not trade everything to protect... You I would. Sleep well, my little prince." I had never had someone pledge their life to protect me. I feel so unworthy.

 0630

 The boss is having an early breakfast with the local team down in the restaurant. Betey and I are eating in the suite. I guess I have caused enough trouble for them on this trip.
 
 The English fry-up did a number on my digestive system last week. I am having lenivie vareniki (lenivie “lazy” and vareniki are Ukrainian pierogi). Ukrainian lenivie vareniki are made of farmer cheese, tossed in melted butter, and served for breakfast with sour cream and granulated sugar. The kitchen included some of their famed sour cherry dumplings.

 1200
 

Well I'm finally flying home. I am the boss's first guest in his private jet. It's smaller than I imagined a private jet would be with the word global in it's name. It is a Bombardier Global 6500. I damn near fell over when he told me this was a temporary, while his 8000 is being built.
   I have been awake since the rude dream interruption at two this morning. Boss made the plane dark and led me towards the tail of the jet. He told me it will be almost four hours until we land. He pointed at the queen sized bed and told me to nap. Then he stepped back into the lounge and closed the door.  We should be home mid afternoon.


Chase

Housekeeping... Answering Questions II

Okay: You folks ask some tough ones.

  1) "What did Zahir mean about a whisper from you being a shout?"

  Damn, I thought I deleted that one fast. 

  The son of a bitch who raped me left me with a permanent medical condition. It is called Recurrent Laryngeal Nerve paralysis (RLN). Surely you didn't think he got life for just raping me? At present there is no additional treatment. I am grateful to just be alive.

• In my case my normal speech is now low volume and very breathy. I am shy by nature, and this doesn't help. If I have a point to make at work I knock on the table and hold up a finger to interject. Yes, the staff knows I was attacked and left injured they don't have all the details.

• If I talk for long periods my voice becomes hoarse and my throat gets sore.

• If I do not rest often, my voice fails and I am mute. It can last minutes or days. (Maybe that explains Desire's Silent Scream better)

• Yes, when this happens I can fall back on ASL American Sign Language... Yes, Zahir learned to read my fingers. I have broken into sign with him when I want him alone to hear me.

  2) "Damn you are so selfish! The man is paying for your education, you should be grateful!"

  Three of you made similar comments, but one of you was this blunt with your assumptions. I almost didn't respond...

• The State of Florida is paying for my tuition NOT Zahir. I am an on-line student of the University of South Florida - USF Tampa (Go Bulls)

• I earned a scholarship that covers my books and proctor fees as needed.

• Zahir does take care of my food and lodging and I am grateful, but that does not mean I should give up everything to him.

   3) A few of you asked if I am in contact with my father's family...

  Yes, leave it at that for now.

 

  4) Why was there a death certificate. 

  When my mother was murdered the police assumed I was washed down the Mississippi. They searched but found no body, naturally. After five years the family needed to move on. They planted my grave marker next to Mom's and had me declared.
 
  Ironically it is easier to legally die than it is to legally come back from the dead. The paperwork is killer. Still how many people can look forward to legally dying TWICE in one lifetime... Is that too dark? If you haven't noticed my sense of humor is a little warped, blame it on my life experiences. It is also only five in the morning as I write this. Haven't had my coffee yet.


  Chase

He Woke Up First.

 I written before I really don't need more than 4 hours sleep. Yesterday was one of those days I woke up early. He doesn't like it when I climb out of bed, so I'm stuck with the choice of:

1. Trying to slowly slide over to grab my tablet from it's charging plate.
2. Laying very still in his arms hoping to drift back to sleep.
3. Attempt a Mission Impossible extrication to get my MacBook from the desk in my room. (bad choice)

  Z is a very light sleeper, I think it's because of his military training. So when I tell you it's a Mission Impossible task, it is. When I cracked my eyes open at five, I saw him staring at me. When I have trouble sleeping, he occasionally sings to me. He does have a good voice. After he sings a verse, he whispers the translation in my ear. We are an odd couple musically. I'm trying to get him hooked on DJs like Marshmello and he's trying to introduce me to songs from Jordanian and Syrian singers. "You must think outside your culture, my little one."

 He chuckles at my recent attempts to speak in his language. There are guttural undertones that I just can't wrap my tongue or throat around. Often times it feels/sounds like I'm trying to gargle or cough up something. I know that is not flattering and I don't mean to offend, but it's what it feels like to me anyway. 
 
 On top of all of that there are specific letters and sounds that only occur in Northern Jordanian Levantine Arabic. Z and my tutor are being very patient, forgiving, but firm.

 There are different ways of saying "please," and "what's your name," depending on if you're talking to a male or a female. So far the one phrase I have down is "I can't speak Arabic well." I feel dumb. Binomial Theorem, no problem. Conjugating a phrase around a specific gender, I panic.

 More changes here. Z's parents have treated me coolly in the past, but are always polite. Suddenly they are showing up every other day and his mom is hugging on me. I am wondering if it is the fact they know I am an orphan, and not just a damaged foster kid, has changed my status, or if they are just warming up to me. I asked Z if  the new attitude was based on pity. I hate people feeling sorry for me. My past is what it is. Z just kissed my forehead and told me they see the real boy now. 
 

 I did have another panic attack after Z went to work yesterday. Another eight legged, venom tailed, creature spawn from hell, got into the apartment. I hate scorpions! When I shrieked, the housekeeper came running (with knife in hand) to find out what was going on. She entered the room finding me jumping up and down on the flattened remains of our visitor. She grabbed my epi-pen and I got her to understand it didn't sting me. She then made a phone call, I assumed to inform Z.

 I was wrong she called Z's parents. They in turn called Z. Z's Mom figured it out where they are coming from. For the record that woman is really scary when she's mad. The building owner hires a company to care for, and swap out the plants in the stairwells and lobby. They have been cautioned to examine them closely in the future. The building owner installed new seals on our door in an attempt to keep anything else out.

 Z ran home from the office to see if I was okay. Then he and his dad started praising me as a mighty hunter. I felt stupid, being so afraid of a six inch bug. He reminded me how a stupid six inch bug put me in the hospital last time. Then he told me next time to leave the room and let someone kill it for me. 
  He kept apologizing and telling me it was his responsibility to keep my home safe. I hate it when he apologizes when this crap happens. He didn't plan for it to happen. It's not like he has a cage of them and he left the door open. He didn't mean for the bug to get in to our nest.

 I know he's trying to care for me, but it is frustrating as hell when he won't understand I can stand up to a six inch bug on my own. Yep, me and my Stefano Ricci's are more than enough to kill any six inch satanic crawler from hell. I've never been so happy to be wearing shoes in my life.

 So far the only contact I've had with any of Mom's family since we got home has been with my grandparents and Aunt Meghan. Aunt Meghan set them up on Skype so we can video chat. It's hard getting used to the concept of having grandparents let alone an aunt. I'm used to borrowing other people's relatives, the concept of having my own people is weird. I'm not sure if that makes sense, but it's so unreal right now. Of the aunts and uncles, I think I like Meghan the most.

 I told them how Z has me trying on the name mom gave me at birth. They told me that was silly. I've gone by another name my whole life. Z told them I don't have a middle name and I should consider using one of them at least.  Of course this comes from a man who has five names in addition to his father's.

 Z was very boastful about my scorpion hunt. Then reminded them of how allergic I am to the creatures. We had a quick group talk and then he left the room so I can have a private chat with my grandparents. As soon as Z closed the door Grandpa replied, "So you killed a bug..." with a smirk.  I love his sense of humor and I see where my frequent use of smart-ass comments comes from. Grandma noticed Mom's Pooh Bear on my nightstand holding mine.
 
----

 While we cuddled this morning Z talked about my approaching nineteenth birthday and what I wanted. I told him he'd given me so much over the last month alone, it felt obscene for me to ask for anything. Besides my little list maker knows my birthday isn't until the end of October. 

 Z is letting me go back to the office tomorrow. I'm looking forward to it. I'm also almost caught up on my coursework. My professor was kind enough to give me extensions on a few projects.

  -Chase 

I found this on my playlist from Z. It was tagged, "This is how I feel when you are sad..."

Shocked by my stats.

I was surprised when I reviewed my stats on Blogger. 230 page views from the United Kingdom versus just 14 from my home country. One of the countries I have readers is a little surprising. Z laughed and had to show me where Latvia was. I'm sorry, but I know now.

I hope my British fans forgive me for my first story. It's kind of hard to write about something you don't know. I wanted to do something unusual and that's the story behind Desire's Silent Scream. I will confess it's the one that Z laughed his way through. Then he told me I needed to take English again. He forgets I write while he's asleep. I write when I can't sleep. 

He tells me I'm focusing too much on abandonment. "That part of your life is over. I will never leave you." He also forgets, I met his parents. His mother was telling me about the girls she has lined up for him. She thinks it's cute that he has saved me from the broken American foster care system.

Well after two false starts, we are actually going to Ukraine. In another four hours the alarm will go off and we will be on our way.

Working on part two of Frozen and Chosen. I'm also working on a couple of other stories. A few of you've asked for me to break them into smaller chapters. It's not how my mind works. I actually have to write the whole thing out in order to figure out where I want to shift things.

Was just notified by Nifty my third story has been published with them Teddy and the Bear.

Chase

Caught

Z found my files on Nifty. Hell he found everything, even my blog. He was pissed... At first anyway. Note to self, secure is not always secure.

I was shocked that he found my early crap on GayDemon. No I will not link to it. It was shit. God I have never seen him so angry. I offered to delete everything, I gave him back the tablet he bought me. He was confused but still fuming. I gave him his space. I went to my room and started packing my back pack. He walked in as I shoved my old worn old Pooh Bear into the top of the bag. 

He asked where I was going. I told him that I thought he would want me gone. He pulled me into his chest, replying never. In the end, he laughed about fantasies/stories. My blog on the other hand is an issue. I am going to have to keep specifics about locations and times a little foggy. He understands the therapeutic value of putting my thoughts, joys and yes fears into words. In the end he laughed and kissed me. He mocked my grammar errors in my new story (yes, he let me post it.) "My boy needs a refresher in English."

He read some of the other stories I am working on. Z gave me back my tablet, asking if I wanted to try some of the things I describe in my stories. I told him they were just stupid fantasy, occasionally dreams. Truth be told he pleases me more than I can say. "Frozen" confused him, "Does my baby see himself as a girl?" I told him no, I was just using it as a vehicle. I write about abandonment because it is a topic I know too well. He reminded me not everything gets a happy ending in life. I told him HE was my "Disney" ending. I asked him to forgive me for angering him. Z grinned down at me saying it was already forgotten.
 

"I will have to teach you better the world is not a safe place." He is right. He pointed out how some of my posts have been geotagged. I must be a little more careful. I guess I am not as smart as I always believed I was.

Some folks have asked what is up with your signature at the end of your blog.  I am using it to show state of mind. Chase is up, Nadir is bummed.

Nadir / Chase

Shrinky Dink Time

Chase is a sad boi...

I know I shouldn't read too much into this but, "Z" has me seeing a therapist. Last week I drew blood as my fingers dug into his arm while we slept.

I felt so bad as we cleaned and dabbed antiseptic on his wounds. After I kissed his bandage, we had a very long talk about what I was dreaming. I confessed I was nervous about our coming trip to Ukraine. I thought I had been looking forward to seeing Kiev. I had a dream that he left me alone and didn't come back.

He told me I have to get a handle on my abandonment issues and needed to see a therapist. I offered to wear mittens to bed from now on, he didn't laugh.

Just because everyone I've ever known has walked away from me, does not mean I have abandonment issues. To me it seems like a pretty damn logical, legitimate and real fear. I know "Z" loves me, and just wants me happy. I tried to fool him plastering on a smile for a week. Today he told me my first session was after dinner. I guess I still have to work on some of those old walls, and apparently my acting skills.

He found me the oldest, ugliest doctor in the world of psychotherapy. I know that is shallow of me, but seriously I could have braided his nose hair. We had the usual opening talk where he agreed with everything I said. At least he isn't trying to push mood stabilizers. Pharmacology has never helped me in the past. Sometimes a dream is just a dream. I told the doc I had been thinking about my mom and where I come from a lot lately. He asked, "Where DO you come from?"

"That's the problem, I don't know Sir." He said there was a tremendous amount of pain in my reply. Note to self from now on, lie to the shrink.  So here I sit at four thirty in the morning editing a post from two hours ago. I should get breakfast started, "Z" will be up for Salah soon.

Nadir


Postscript: I am working on a new story "Frozen and Chosen" A story about a teen-aged boy, missing/absent parents, drugs, sex, show-tunes, and a bit of New Orleans. It starts in this weird part of Illinois one of my foster families came from. I thought Miami was colorful, until I heard about life on the Illinois/Wisconsin line.